any amount.” Wade grinned and walked toward the office.
Kristina stood for a moment, her breath caught in her throat.
For you, I’d pay any amount.
She picked up the towel, draped it over the little sink under the bar and picked up her tray. If only it were true.
CHAPTE R 7
“Did you see Sammy yesterday?”
Two men sat at the end of the bar nursing their beers. Jimmy and Mark, or Ren and Stimpy—as the bar staff affectionately called them—were like fixtures. Wade might as well have nailed them to the stools and give them a fresh coat of paint now and then.
Kristina wiped the counter. The bar wouldn’t fill for at least another hour but these two arrived at the same time each night, gossiping like old women until the wee hours. She won dered how they did it day in and day out. How they could afford it.
“Yeah, Wade adjusted his attitude, didn’t he?” Mark raised the glass to his mouth.
At the mention of Wade’s name, she moved closer.
“Sam always did think he was hot shit. Fuck, Tommy said he came into work with a broken nose and his arm in a sling. He walked with quite a limp too. Told the boss he had a car accident and needed a couple weeks off.”
Kristina paused, dismayed at the memory of Wade’s bloodied hands and disheveled shirt. Did he break the man’s nose? Two weeks off work?
“I heard he broke some ribs too,” Jimmy said.
Kristina looked up.
Eyes wide, Jimmy grinned. “You don’t fuck around with guys like Wade. He doesn’t take shit from anyone. Good way to find yourself in a ditch bleeding out. Remember the guy who ratted on the Brotherhood? They found him on the highway, right outside the cop station so messed up they put him in a nursing home. I heard it was Wade who put him there. Guy’s got fucking balls I tell you.”
“Yeah, Sam’s lucky Wade wasn’t doing a hit. Still, I don’t think we’ll see him around for a while. I could have told him to keep his hands to himself. Wade’s soft on that one.”
Kristina’s cheeks warmed when Mark pointed a stubby finger in her direction.
They continued to talk, as though the bar between them provided a sound barrier.
She moved away, heart pounding, pressure building in her chest. After a glance at the clock, she walked to the door and flipped a light switch to turn off the overhead lights. The dim pot fixtures that ran down the center of the bar lent a pale yellow glow to the room.
“Hey! Why’d you shut the lights off? Now we can’t see those pretty eyes,” Jimmy called.
Kristina smiled. Every night she worked Jimmy said the same thing when she turned off the lights at nine o’clock. “Sorry Jim, you’ll have to look closer I guess.”
“Tease. Where’s Wade? Isn’t he supposed to be here by now? Lazy prick.”
The door clicked shut. “Lazy what?”
Kristina turned on her way back to the bar.
Wade stood, hands on his hips, a mock scowl on his face.
Jimmy held up his hands defensively. “Uh, you must have heard me wrong. I said you were a nice guy who deserved a little holiday.”
“Oh is that what you said?” Wade laughed and pulled out the stool next to them. He nodded to Kristina and she grabbed a tumbler from below the sink to get him his usual rye and Coke.
“I hear Sammy had an accident last night,” Mark said, and paused to tip the bottle to his mouth.
Kristina had to smile at his audacity.
“He had to take time off work.”
“Really?” Wade murmured.
Kristina kept her gaze on the bar as she handed Wade his glass. She shivered when his long fingers brushed hers.
“I can’t imagine what happened to him. He was fine when he left here.”
Mark snorted.
Kristina looked up from the sink, to catch Wade’s gaze. He winked and she turned away.
When the door opened and a group of girls filed in, Wade got up from his stool, said his goodbyes to Mark and Jimmy and walked into his office behind the bar.
Most of the night Kristina worked in a haze; her mind distracted by what Wade had done.
Kristina stood for a moment, her breath caught in her throat.
For you, I’d pay any amount.
She picked up the towel, draped it over the little sink under the bar and picked up her tray. If only it were true.
CHAPTE R 7
“Did you see Sammy yesterday?”
Two men sat at the end of the bar nursing their beers. Jimmy and Mark, or Ren and Stimpy—as the bar staff affectionately called them—were like fixtures. Wade might as well have nailed them to the stools and give them a fresh coat of paint now and then.
Kristina wiped the counter. The bar wouldn’t fill for at least another hour but these two arrived at the same time each night, gossiping like old women until the wee hours. She won dered how they did it day in and day out. How they could afford it.
“Yeah, Wade adjusted his attitude, didn’t he?” Mark raised the glass to his mouth.
At the mention of Wade’s name, she moved closer.
“Sam always did think he was hot shit. Fuck, Tommy said he came into work with a broken nose and his arm in a sling. He walked with quite a limp too. Told the boss he had a car accident and needed a couple weeks off.”
Kristina paused, dismayed at the memory of Wade’s bloodied hands and disheveled shirt. Did he break the man’s nose? Two weeks off work?
“I heard he broke some ribs too,” Jimmy said.
Kristina looked up.
Eyes wide, Jimmy grinned. “You don’t fuck around with guys like Wade. He doesn’t take shit from anyone. Good way to find yourself in a ditch bleeding out. Remember the guy who ratted on the Brotherhood? They found him on the highway, right outside the cop station so messed up they put him in a nursing home. I heard it was Wade who put him there. Guy’s got fucking balls I tell you.”
“Yeah, Sam’s lucky Wade wasn’t doing a hit. Still, I don’t think we’ll see him around for a while. I could have told him to keep his hands to himself. Wade’s soft on that one.”
Kristina’s cheeks warmed when Mark pointed a stubby finger in her direction.
They continued to talk, as though the bar between them provided a sound barrier.
She moved away, heart pounding, pressure building in her chest. After a glance at the clock, she walked to the door and flipped a light switch to turn off the overhead lights. The dim pot fixtures that ran down the center of the bar lent a pale yellow glow to the room.
“Hey! Why’d you shut the lights off? Now we can’t see those pretty eyes,” Jimmy called.
Kristina smiled. Every night she worked Jimmy said the same thing when she turned off the lights at nine o’clock. “Sorry Jim, you’ll have to look closer I guess.”
“Tease. Where’s Wade? Isn’t he supposed to be here by now? Lazy prick.”
The door clicked shut. “Lazy what?”
Kristina turned on her way back to the bar.
Wade stood, hands on his hips, a mock scowl on his face.
Jimmy held up his hands defensively. “Uh, you must have heard me wrong. I said you were a nice guy who deserved a little holiday.”
“Oh is that what you said?” Wade laughed and pulled out the stool next to them. He nodded to Kristina and she grabbed a tumbler from below the sink to get him his usual rye and Coke.
“I hear Sammy had an accident last night,” Mark said, and paused to tip the bottle to his mouth.
Kristina had to smile at his audacity.
“He had to take time off work.”
“Really?” Wade murmured.
Kristina kept her gaze on the bar as she handed Wade his glass. She shivered when his long fingers brushed hers.
“I can’t imagine what happened to him. He was fine when he left here.”
Mark snorted.
Kristina looked up from the sink, to catch Wade’s gaze. He winked and she turned away.
When the door opened and a group of girls filed in, Wade got up from his stool, said his goodbyes to Mark and Jimmy and walked into his office behind the bar.
Most of the night Kristina worked in a haze; her mind distracted by what Wade had done.
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